Chapter 8:

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“You’re not afraid of much, are you?”

The man stood there, exuding a cold, menacing aura. Allison didn’t flinch, though her right hand was already coiling with the subtle force she’d perfected over years. It had been a while since she’d tasted this kind of life-or-death tension. The lull in her days had almost made her forget what it felt like.

Outside, the pounding of hurried footsteps echoed, closing in fast.

“Find him! We used Shadow’s latest. That stuff could knock out a whole squad. He’s not getting far. Move it, before sunrise!”

Allison’s mind worked quickly. So, he was drugged.

As the footsteps faded, the gun pressing into her side began to tremble. His hand was barely steady, the grip weakening by the second.

“I’m not in the habit of meddling. I’ll act like I never saw anything tonight.”

Her voice was steady even as a gun dug into her waist. “And if you don’t want that wound festering, you’d better hit a hospital soon.”

Though she couldn’t see clearly in the dark, her keen senses picked up the sharp tang of blood in the air. But his voice, though strained, was ice cold. “Keep running your mouth, and you won’t live to regret it.”

There was a rasp to his words, deep and magnetic, but fraying at the edges, likely from the drug seeping into his system. The tremor in his voice was so slight that it was nearly lost in the tension.

Allison’s lips curled into a smirk. “Sure thing.”

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Her fingers clenched into a fist, calculating.

Kellan, on the other hand, was grappling with the fire raging in his veins.

His eyelids fluttered as he fought to control his breathing. From where he stood, he could just make out a sliver of her neck, pale and delicate, as if a single twist could break it.

And yet, she stood there so calmly, as if she were the one holding the upper hand—smiling, even!

The drug was stronger than he’d thought. His vision swam, but the sharp scent of plum cut through the haze, briefly clearing his mind.

That moment was all Allison needed.

Crack!

In an instant, she drove her elbow sharply into his ribs, her right hand gliding down his arm and locking onto his wrist.

Her fingers expertly pressed into his pressure points, disarming him with a swift and practiced motion.

Within seconds, the tables had turned!

Allison, now holding the gun, let her finger dance lightly over the trigger, the weapon gleaming in the darkness. She leveled it against his chest, calm and completely in control.

Kellan, the man who had been calling the shots just moments ago, now stood face-to-face with a woman who smiled up at him with cool confidence.

“Next time, think twice before you go waving this around. You never know when it might go off accidentally.” Allison held the gun with the steadiness of someone who had seen it all before.

“Drugged, huh? Seems like you’re in over your head this time.”

He had never come across anyone quite like her—a woman who stared danger in the face and smiled right back at it.

Kellan didn’t even pause. His hand slammed into the crook of her elbow.

The gun jerked as Allison’s arm bent, and in that blink of hesitation, Kellan made his move.

With swift precision, he clamped down on her shoulder, the grip crushing against her collarbone. Allison tasted copper on her tongue, but fear was a distant memory—replaced by something far more exhilarating, a rush she hadn’t felt in years.

How long had it been since she’d fought with real intent? She couldn’t remember. What she did know was that after playing the dutiful puppet in the Stevens family for three long years, the Scarlet Snake still coiled within her, lying in wait.

Funny, wasn’t it? Men couldn’t handle being reminded of their shortcomings. That truth alone unraveled them.

Without a second thought, Allison threw her fist backward, aiming straight for Kellan’s temple. He hadn’t even recovered his breath, still stumbling over the shock of her resistance.

The blow wasn’t just meant to hurt—it was meant to kill.

But Kellan’s instincts were quick, throwing up an arm to block the strike. Before he could even fully absorb the impact, Allison used the wall as a springboard, flipping over him with uncanny precision. She caught him in a perfect throw, sending him sprawling.

Yet Kellan rolled on impact, using the momentum to rise again, and grabbed her arm from an angle she hadn’t anticipated.

Allison’s brain snapped to attention, but her body lagged for a fraction of a second.

Three years of dormancy had dulled her edge, and in that fleeting delay, Kellan twisted her arms behind her and slammed her against the wall.

Hiss!

Her vision blurred for a moment, catching only flashes of his chiseled features, the hard lines of his jaw, and eyes that now burned with an almost dangerous light.

Kellan’s composure was crumbling. The scent of that once-soothing perfume clung to the air between them, but now it only stoked the fire inside him, pushing him past the brink of reason.

His eyes darkened at the edges, bloodshot, and before Allison could react, he bent down to kiss her!

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